(livingundies)
Original description of Shumiko “Squasher” Yama by worstfailure.
Pinched between the thick fingers of his prospective owner, the former man turned panties weeped in his mind. Shortly after Izzy left, S had her girls pack up and move operations. By the time it was midnight, they were already at another warehouse unbeknownst to the police department. Squashing any hopes Stan had of being rescued. Speaking of squashing, he was staring at a squasher, literally.
Sumiko “Squasher” Yama, Stan knew her by reputation. She was one of the Red Whale’s fiercest enforcers and the operator of an underground fighting ring known as, The Pit. At 6'8'' and 275 lbs, the 32-year-old woman was built like a sumo wrestler and dressed like a punk rocker. Her black hair was done up in a topknot but streaked with neon green that matched her nail color. She wore a black tank top, two neon green skulls bulging and stretched out because each of her breasts was bigger than a grown woman's head. Her jeans, ripped at the knee, likewise struggled to contain the girth of her ass, each cheek the circumference of a hula hoop. Stan dreaded the power and size of those hip as it was becoming apparent he’d have to drape over them.
In keeping with sumo bodies, she had a layer of muscle beneath all of that fat. His form would shiver if he still had control over it. “Why are you giving me these?” She said plainly and professionally. S, who was perched on a wooden crate of ready to ship Tinies, grinned widely at the question. “Cross company relations. You all at The Pit have gifted me so much material, I figured I’d give back.” Yama tried to read S, but with her psychotic personality it was hard to discern anything about her intentions. “He’s top shelf, soft, stretchy but with some give. He’d make a mint on the market.” Yama was not giving up her inquisition.
S inhaled sharply, every second where Stan wasn’t being worn was agony for her. “He’s a cop, the Tiny cop. You know how I love to break men who think they have authority. But his partner’s bulbous behind stretched him past my size. So, I figured if I can’t torture him, I best give him to the largest and rankest rump I know.” Yama shot a glare at her for the insult. She wanted to kill The Seamstress since the day she met her, something was crooked in her and not the way a lot of the Red Whale’s lieutenants were, but the money she brought in was more than enough to grant her immunity as long as she played ball with the organization. Plus, she wasn’t wrong, necessarily.
It was hard for Yama to find underwear at all, most days (like today), she went commando. Her only undergarment that fit her was her custom tailored mawashi. It couldn’t hurt to try him out.
Yama knew the drill here, S liked to watch a Tiny be put on. She unbuttoned her struggling pants and began the long process of shimmying her way out of them. Stan watched from the sidelines his paper thin brain racing. It was a nightmare, it had to be! Not only had he been permanently flattened and not only had his body turned into panties on it’s own but now he was being gifted to an actual sumo wrestler! It was too bad to be true! Come on man wake up! He screeched in his head.
Then at last she kicked off her thoroughly abused pants and turned her attention towards the would-be cop. He caught a draft from her exposed lower half, sweat and general butt funk curled his painted on nostrils. No! More head screaming. She brought him to he massive cankles and pudgy feet. No! No! Her vice like grip cane down and grabbed his ‘straps’. Please, God, no!! She then hoisted him up, beginning the struggle up her tree trunk like thighs! He stretched far and wide trying to accommodate the surface area! NOOOOOOO! Yama clenched her thighs upon doing so, the woman was hit with a sudden wave of euphoria. She had wore Tiny clothing before, but none as soft as Stan and the added factor of emasculating a police officer was also doing something to her.
Suddenly, she was no longer interested in dragging on with the foreplay. Yama wanted him on, now. The strong amazon yanked him, hard now, his form then shot up into the darkness of her undercarriage. He was met with the hot steamy discharge of her womanhood as his tongue his her crotch. He was panicking now, her lady cum was the final nail in his coffin or more precisely the underwear drawer. Yama let out a moan, not something she let other people hear from her, but who cares, she very rarely had an orgasm and she was going to enjoy this one! She continued to pull! The other half of his tongue hit her butthole, the sour taste of dried sweat and stale essence of former farts defiled his tastebuds. He was being pulled past his limits! His already elongated features widening more and more.
After what felt like an eternity, Yama finally got him over her hips. She continued to stretch him, however, wedging him deeper into her crevices, gasping and panting in quick bursts now. Then it came, or rather she did. Hot feminine pleasure burnt his tongue as she climaxed into his panty body, so much came out that it splattered on the floor. She stayed in position clenched and breathing like someone who had just run a marathon. She let his waistband slip out of her hands and it snapped like any good pair would around her monstrous hips. Her love handles swallowing them as soon as they came.
He wasn’t the granny panties The Seamstress hoped he’d be. More like a thong, honestly he was so tight, he looked more like a thong shaped tattoo on her undercarriage. “Huh, looks like he’s not really your size either. Well I can get you one that’ll fit better. Let me jus-“ “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” S started to say before Yama cut her off. “He’s… ah, he’s perfect. Although, I was wondering, can you make some modifications.” The sumo wrestler’s words enticed the now smiling maniac.
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